I pride myself on being organized and generally keeping on top of things. Yet on occasion I get tripped up by seemingly mundane tasks that I failed to account for. For instance, laundry. Since I now have a washer/dryer in the building which I live, doing laundry isn’t quite the chore it once was. (My first novel shall be titled: Hell Is A Laundromat). It takes a half-hour to run a load of wash and fifty minutes to dry it, so allowing for time to fold and go up and down stairs, I can usually do a load of laundry in two hours. Unfortunately, I get home from work after five and usually have to be at rehearsal by seven, which means, with drive time, I can only do laundry on weekends (when EVERYBODY in the building is doing it), or on weeknights when I don’t have to go out. Not a problem. Usually.
I have been out every night for the last seven consecutive days. And my weekend consisted of getting out of bed, showering, and leaving the house immediately afterwards, not to return until late at night. Which means, I haven’t had a *chance* to do laundry in over a week, and that far back, I didn’t *need* to do laundry. What is the point of this story? Simple…
Today I’m wearing white socks with brown slacks.
And I have an interview.
And I feel like a complete dork.
Now I just found out about the interview yesterday, so I didn’t actually have any time to plan. Which is fine-and-dandy as an excuse, but doesn’t help me with my feeling of dorkdom. So I shall spend the rest of day feeling self conscious about the way I’m dressed, and I will probably stiffen and cringe when I get in the interview and invariably cross my legs, revealing my fashion faux pas to my prospective new boss. Will it cost me the job? I highly doubt it. But it WILL cost me a tiny sliver of dignity and self-respect, and as anyone who knows me can attest… I really can’t afford to lose any more.
My goal for the weekend: buy more socks.